


Over and under

by gwendee



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: 3-E aren't bad, Alternate Universe, Class 3 E (Assassination Classroom), Fluff and Humor, Gen, High School, Homophobia, Karushuu if you squint, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, Not a bad ending, Post-Canon, Time Skips, Trans Character, Transphobia, but like slight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18439823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwendee/pseuds/gwendee
Summary: It was a innocent prank, Karma and Nakamura theorize, that would probably make Asano splutter and yell at them for about ten minutes or so. Nakamura manages to hook the skirt around Asano's waist, and it's funny up until the point the principal steps into class 3-E and says, "this shit again?"Or: Trans Female Gakushuu Asano.





	Over and under

**Author's Note:**

> Ok guys I'm actually... not too sure about this, it just came into my head one night and I had a draft fleshed out before I really thought about it. I already wrote it so I'll just post it. Not sure if this is too sensitive??? Take the tags as they are. Nothing bad happens, I promise.

**Over and under.**

The idea gets into their head when they witness Asano’s aghast expression at Nagisa talking to Yuuji Norita in a skirt, why he had decided to abandon 3-A’s own booth to come look at 3-E’s they have no idea, but the look on Asano’s face fluctuates between horror and disgust, and Karma fumes.

“He never struck me as homophobic,” Maehara says, but he’s a little miffed, watching Asano all but scramble away when he notices 3-E watching him glare daggers at Nagisa’s skirt.

“Transphobic,” Nakamura corrects.

“What an asshole,” Terasaka remarks, and Karma looks positively murderous. Because no one insults Nagisa when Karma is around, and when Karma is scheming Nakamura tends to include herself in, and then no one else is really excluded from the fray. It was a innocent prank, Karma and Nakamura theorize, that would probably make Asano splutter and yell at them for about ten minutes or so, and tell him exactly what they thought about his views, and thus it was set into motion. 

“Stop it!” Asano yells, flailing as Nakamura manages to hook the skirt around his waist. It happens so quickly but no one is really surprised, not with the ton of experience she has cross-dressing Nagisa and switching out his pants for her skirt. Asano attempts to kick her and she leaps out of the way, giggling, and the movement causes the chair he’s tied to to tip over. Asano goes down with such a loud crash that even Itona winces.

“Let me go!” Asano demands, squirming and face impossibly red, from anger or embarrassment or both.

“Aww, but you look like such a pretty girl like this,” Karma cackles.

“Great work with the ropes, guys,” Okajima leers, and Nakamura smacks him.

“Have you have no shame? Asano is still a boy,” Nakamura scolds. Asano, back on the floor and skirt riding up his thighs, glowers.

“Uhm,” says Nagisa, shifting when Asano’s intense gaze snaps towards him, “I think we should stop.”

“It’s just a harmless prank,” Maehara laughs. “Right, Asano?”

“I’m sorry for looking, alright,” Asano says, desperation lacing his tone as he stares at Nagisa with hurt eyes, and Nagisa wonders what exactly was going through Asano’s mind, “let me go!”

“What the hell?” Isogai steps into the classroom, followed by the rest of the class who have all gone down to main campus to check out the results of their fund-raising competition and pick up snacks and a drink or two. “Is that Asano? What are you all doing?!” Behind him, the gaggle of classmates peer over his shoulder, a few exclamations and laughs can be heard.

“We’re just teaching him a lesson,” Karma drawls, “no biggie, class rep.”

“That’s mean,” Katoka scolds. She unties Asano and extends a hand to help him up.

“The principal’s coming for spot check,” Isogai says sternly, as Asano clambers to his feet and rubs his red wrists, and the rest of the class start filtering in to take their seats and whispering amongst themselves. “Karma, you’re already on thin ice with the suspension and-”

The door opens. Principal Asano strides in, looking mostly bored, but then he takes in the scene and his eyes turn sharp. The younger Asano, to the class’ surprise, latches on to the nearest person next to him, which happens to be Karma.

“Hey,” Karma yelps, then stills when the principal stalks closer towards them, and Asano holds his head high and matches his father’s gaze, one hand curled into a fist in front of his lap and the other tightly gripping Karma’s forearm. The principal’s impassive expression turns into a scowl and he wrenches his son away.

Isogai opens his mouth to speak, still unsure what he needs to say and who he’s supposed to be defending in this situation, and he’s cut short by a stern, “this shit again?”

Isogai’s mouth shuts with an audible click. No one makes a sound. Asano winces and bows his head.

“I expected shenanigans like this from 3-E, not you,” Principal Asano says acidly, and Nagisa flinches slightly and the rest of the class exchange wide-eyed glances with each other but Asano visibly recoils, and curls in on himself. The principal clicks his tongue in irritation. “Stop embarrassing yourself." With that, his eyes snap towards Karma, who thankfully keeps silent, although he does match his stare and narrows his eyes. Asano doesn’t reply.

The principal surveys the classroom, frowns, and then turns and walks out. 3-E lets out a collective breath they were all holding in but the tense silence still remains, everyone watching Asano. He raises his head, snatches his pants from Nakamura’s lax hold, and storms out. No one says anything still, following the flap of the skirt as he leaves and then watching the door with bated breaths until he storms back in, and flings the skirt roughly in Nakamura’s face.

Asano kicks the chair as he passes it to grab his bag from where Terasaka had tossed it to the floor, and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand just as a stray tear rolls down his cheek. The door slams shut on the way out.

Itona is the first one to speak, a quiet observer from the beginning, not too invested in Asano’s wellbeing to intervene but not rougish enough to join them. “You guys went too far,” he says, like the instigators didn’t already know that.

“Do you think,” Maehara starts, then abruptly falls silent.

“He was crying,” Yada remarks quietly, and Kurahashi’s soft “everyone saw that” wasn’t rebuked, and there was too much tension in the room to state anything but the obvious, to reaffirm the facts as if they all saw the scene differently, and everyone hoping a little bit that they did. The empty screen at the back of class blinks and Ritsu peers out with worry.

“Shit,” Nakamura finally says.

“I’m going after him,” Nagisa says, and he purses his lips and exchanges a glance with Isogai and Isogai nods. Nagisa hurries out of the classroom and down the hill, following the most straightforward path back to Kunugigaoka’s main campus before he realizes that this would be the path that the principal was likely to have taken, then doubles back and heads down by the longer, quieter road.

Asano is there, walking with his hands in his pockets and bag around his shoulder. Nagisa catches up to him and Asano turns his head away, but Nagisa had already seen the reddened eyes and the tears.

“Asano,” Nagisa says softly, “are you alright?”

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Asano whispers, words stilted, head low.

“I know,” Nagisa says, keeping pace as Asano slows, “I’m sorry about the others. They were just looking out for me. They didn’t mean to, uh, make your dad mad at you.”

Asano stays quiet. His fringe falls over his eyes. They walk for a while like that, the sounds of nature punctuated by the crunch of leaves and twigs under their shoes, and the occasional hiccuping from Asano as he sobs, that are somehow deafening in the white noise.

Nagisa takes in a deep breath. “You know my mom always wanted a daughter,” he starts, trying to keep his tone light, “she had her heart set on getting one, she made me be her substitute daughter when I was born.” He tugs at his pigtails and lets his hair fall over his shoulders, and Asano’s gaze briefly flickers towards him.

“She made me grow my hair out,” Nagisa says, “so she could braid it and groom me like I was a little girl. For a while I wore dresses, even.”

“It felt, wrong, to me, because I was a boy,” Nagisa continues, “and I wanted to be a boy, even though my mom wanted me to be a girl, but we had this huge talk a while back and we got all our feelings aired out in the open. I mean, I’m not trying to suggest anything, but-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Asano interrupts. He sounds exhausted.

“That’s okay,” Nagisa says gently.

“Go back to class,” Asano tells him, still averting his eyes but his breathing evens out. “I’m fine.”

No one tells the teachers about it, even if Isogai threatens to as he yells at five of them, even if for the first time Karma thinks he would actually appreciate a suspension to get rid of the guilt clawing at him. It becomes some unspoken thing in 3-E, the elephant in the room they would procrastinate to address, whenever something alludes to the main campus or brings up either Asano, sharp whispers and elbows nudging and Terasaka looking down in shame.

Until Asano corners them in the main campus courtyard, fists balled up and a stubborn set to his jaw, asking them to kill the principal’s education philosophy. He makes vicious eye contact with each one of them, “make class A suffer a decisive defeat.” No one responds, at first, Asano unwavering and 3-E unsure of where the boundaries lie, the last clear memory of Asano in tears in front of their classroom.

Karma steps up. “I’ll grab the top spot from you,” he says, “prepare to be defeated.”

The class tenses, ready for a fight, but Asano just smirks and says, “bring it on.”

But there’s something else about it now, like the stark awareness that the cockiness that Asano displays is just a mask, despite strong words against the principal and his insistence of wanting to defeat him. No one talks about it, no one mentions the memory of Asano cowering behind Karma in the principal’s presence or the way he folded his hands over the creases in the skirt and stared resolutely at the floor as his father called him an embarrassment, or-

They’re not going to see him again, they won’t step foot in Kunugigaoka ever again. Ex-3-E stares out the rear window of the bus as it drives away and watches Asano watch them, then turns back into the massive fray of reporters.

“I’ll keep an eye on Asano,” Karma says without thinking, surprising himself and most of his ex-classmates. Nagisa smiles at him.

First day of high school and Asano’s back in class with his authoritative demeanor, son of the principal of Kunugigaoka High School. His name is called and he re-introduces himself to the class as if he needs to, and Karma watches him. He has friends, Sakakibara and Koyama and Seo and Araki, who gripe and jab at each other and grin as Asano leans back on his chair with the self-assured smile on his face, and Karma wonder if any of them know.

“Happy birthday,” Karma blurts, throwing a box onto Asano’s table. It’s wrapped prettily and is a gift from the whole of 3-E and not just him, although it’s mostly his and Kayano’s money, it’s the thought that counts or something.

“It's not my birthday,” Asano says.

“I don’t know when that is,” Karma says, “it’s just a gift. From us. Take it, okay?”

It’s a necklace with a tiny silver moon pendant, because everyone in 3-E had gotten one and it’s either hung from keychains or phone straps or jewelry. There was a bit of a debate about Asano’s gift, whether they wanted to include him in something exclusively 3-E even if he wouldn’t know it, and the form the pendant should take.

“It’s discreet enough,” Sugino says, rubbing the chain around his own neck, and no one mentions knee-length skirts or hot tears or bruised knuckles. Asano doesn’t say anything else about it but Karma catches a glimpse of silver under his collar two days later and sends a smiley into the class chat group.

The principal talks happily about his son and his achievements, to associates casually standing around in the teacher’s lounge as they pass by, and next to him Asano slightly tightens his hold on the box of books that Guro-sensei had sent the both of them to get. In the hallways away from prying eyes and listening ears Karma asks, “what do you want me to call you?”

Asano looks at him, startled, scared. Karma drops his box and it echoes loudly as it hits the floor and no one peeks their heads out of the classrooms to check on them, and Karma takes the other box out of Asano’s hands and tugs him close. Asano struggles, a little, and then presses himself to Karma’s chest and buries his face in the crook of his neck and stays there.

“What do you want me to call you?” Karma repeats, softer, and Asano shakes his head.

“Asano,” Asano says quietly.

“Can I call you a girl?” Karma asks quietly, and Asano turns bright red with her cheek turned away, but there’s no protest and Asano doesn’t pull away and Karma gives her another squeeze and then steps away.

3-E’s reunion second year happens on a late afternoon, and when they’re chattering excitedly heading down from the mountain they spot Asano heading out of school. There’s no one else around and it’s way too late for there to be anyone else left in school, which is the only reason Karma cups his hands and hollers “HEY GIRL!” and watches Asano stumble and whip around with a scarlet face.

“Akabane,” Asano squeaks, and she panics a little when she sees ex-3-E watching her in varying levels of amusement and pity. Asano is tall but Akabane is taller and he glomps her and ruffles her hair, now hanging past her eyes and due for a haircut.

“Hello,” Isogai greets, cordial as ever, stepping forward with an outstretched hand and a steady grin. Asano stares and Karma throws a flippant comment about treating a lady right and nobody says anything about that, joking back like it’s some normal thing and taking it in stride and Kayano, Yukimura the award-winning actress casually throws out a call for a shopping spree and slaps her name card into Asano’s palms.

Nagisa squeezes through the crowd when Asano looks positively cornered, and loops his arm around hers and drags her away. “How are you?” he asks sincerely.

“...Class reunion?” Asano asks awkwardly.

“Sorry about Karma, he can be a bit much, hope we didn’t overwhelm you,” Nagisa says, and Asano stares at his hair cropped short and hesitantly tugs at her own. They don’t mention it, make small talk about grades and respective high schools and Asano rejects an invitation for dinner with 3-E, and they exchange numbers and Nagisa wishes her the best.

There’s nothing else about that, they text sporadically throughout their third year then as examinations pick up, not at all. They hear from Karma that Asano continues her middle-school legacy and heads the student population as council president yet again.

It’s after their graduation year, first year in college or through the midst of their gap year they have their fourth annual class reunion when Karma excitedly says that he’ll be bringing someone over with him. There’s screaming outside the bar they staked their claim in and Nagisa and Isogai rushes out to break up a fight and instead see Asano, digging her heels into the asphalt and adamantly refusing to enter the establishment, and Karma attempting to manhandle her in.

She grew up pretty, now her hair is in a messy long bob reminiscent of Kurahashi’s and falling over her eyes that are still startlingly violet, and she’s yelling bloody murder.

“Stop being a baby! I already said you’ll come!” Karma screams.

“You didn’t tell me I’m meeting your entire goddamn class!” Asano shrieks back, and Karma narrows his eyes and catches her in a maneuver that she can’t dodge with a skirt on and hauls her over his shoulder. Asano quietens down once they actually enter and pouts in her seat, and Karma lets her cling onto him.

“How did coming out go?” Kayano asks, swirling a cocktail, when they’re buzzed with looser tongues and Asano seems okay about answering the occasional question surrounding her sexuality.

“Karma hit my dad in the face,” Asano sighs.

“It was awesome,” Karma says, and gets a sharp jab in his ribs for his efforts.

“It was completely unnecessary,” Asano stresses, “I already hashed it out with him. You were just looking for a fight.”

“Indulge me in my whims,” Karma sighs. Nagisa laughs a little at the pair, and Asano beams stunningly at him.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she says, and shoves her knee into Karma’s stomach as she slides over him and stalks off. Most of them watch her go, gracefully side-stepping a puddle of water and ignoring a group of drunk college boys catcalling her, and Okajima says with a thoughtful rub of his chin, “she’s glowed up kinda hot, isn’t she?”

Karma glares, and Nakamura punches him.

**Author's Note:**

> ...well?


End file.
